He Knows
by haleyblu
Summary: a serial killer stalker has set his eyes on Quinn he knows... well everything. warning: possible character death not sure yet I'm not sure where i'm going with this. possible smut.
1. prologue

He Knows

This is my first story and I would appreciate you telling me any errors I might have made I already have the next chapter but I'm waiting until at least 1 person reveiws to upload it! please enjoy!

prologue

I guess you could call me a serial killer stalker, I find someone who interests me and I study them. Creepy you might say and you would be right, but I can't help myself. I find out everything I can about them, where they live, what they do and everything else. The police think it's random and they would be pretty accurate. Except I don't mean to kill them just torture the dieing part just kind of happens… I unfortunately can only manage to study (or stalk as you would call it) once every year because the officers would grow suspicious and it takes forever to learn everything about one person. Especially their weaknesses... Anyway a few months ago I stumbled across a Mrs. Lucy Quinn Fabray Berry or Quinn as she likes to be called. Now I know what you're thinking, "Quinn is pretty but why not her talented wife Rachel Barbra Fabray Berry?" Well my answer to that is simple I don't look for talent and I'll get them both anyway. I'll probably just let Quinn live (or suffer) longer. And their daughter Margaret Lucy Fabray Berry is just another added bonus.


	2. Chapter 1

_You reviewed and as promised here's the first chapter! Sorry it took so long had to figure out how to post new chapters lol reviews = updates_

Quinn Fabray woke up to a beautiful Saturday morning. Stretching as she woke up she hugged the sleeping lump beside her, who she thought was her loving wife Rachel.

They had, had a little argument the night before but it was all in the past. Or at least that's what Quinn hoped. She honestly couldn't remember what the fight was about anyway.

why was Rachel still asleep anyway? Not that she was complaining but she always woke up way before Quinn to do her exercising, and cook breakfast.

Let's see should I wake up my possibly angry wife? Or cook her breakfast, making her have a reason to love me today."Hmm," she pondered playfully in her mind, cooking wins!

Before she got up she heard a small muffled whimper. "What's wrong baby?" she asked feeling slightly guilty. Was it something she said last night? Or was it their three year old daughter Margaret?

The whimper came again sounding more urgent, worried Quinn sat up. "Rach?" she questioned, opening her eyes.

She froze in shock. Rachel was awake, but was gagged,duct taped to a chair and bleeding. Unable to move Quinn stared at her.

"Baby?" Quinn managed to whisper.

Rachel shook her head frantically. Her eyes than darted from Quinn, to the lump in the bed, to the door than back again. She repeated the motion many more times the fear growing in her eyes each time until a tear fell from her eyes. That snapped Quinn out of her shock.

"You want me to leave you?" she asked tears rapidly growing in her eyes. Rachel nodded her head quickly tears falling freely from her regretful eyes.

She than looked at the lump again and started to uncontrollably twitch as he started to rise a smile plastered on his face.

_cliffhanger! My first story and I'm already evil. :) what should happen next? Please review!_


	3. Chapter 2

**I know its been forever I'm so sorry. I can only blame procrastination but anyway, Thank you for the comments and alerts! **

My first killing… well let's just say it was an adventure. I was new to this "hobby" And, unfortunately I believe, it was obvious how clueless I was in the ways of torture. It irks me to say this but I made a very large amount of rookie mistakes. My efforts were so much of a failure people thought it was a hit and run robbery, a robbery! It was embarrassing, humiliating even! But right when I saw that torturous newspaper clipping, I realized I needed to up my ante.

Granted I was 13 but that was absolutely no excuse. When I first started having these... I guess you could say, "Disturbing" thoughts. I tried to stop them, I was disgusted with myself and feared someone would read my thoughts and tell everyone. (In fact it was probably that paranoia that postponed my inedible turn to a full throttle murderer) If I'm not mistaken, my first sign that something could be wrong with me was in kindergarten. It was my first day in. I was as excited as the next guy, and so happy! Time to prove I was no longer a dumb ass toddler. But while running to board the seemingly monstrous, school bus, I was tripped.

I fell flat on my face, and all of those kids, the people I would be forced to exist closely with for who knows how many more years, exploded into stupid laughter. Through my teary eyes, bloody nose, and fairly long hair, I looked up. A big brute of a child stood manacling over me. His smirk was so profound I knew he was the one to trip me. Thoughts and emotions rushed through my innocent mind and before I could quite grasp the situation, he grabbed my underwear and pulled straight up.

Now this, this was pain like no other. The edges scraped and clawed inside me. And it squished something I would rather not talk about to the point where I passed out. In my state, I pictured him screaming, blood pouring out everywhere. It made me feel happy it made me feel wet. Well at the time I just thought I had to pee but now I know what it was.

Of course I didn't punch him. I was far too skinny but with those terrifyingly beautiful images in mind I knew one thing. I would have to be smarter than him. brains over brawns if you plan proved to be incredibly too easy. Oh yes he did torture me for the thirteen remaining years of his life. But in both the small and big picture, I made him pay.

Waylon Prato: Dead, found in room eyes open, mouth apart. Stabbed in both legs with screwdriver, many scratches/bruises located everywhere. No pants on, underwear pulled up to extent of blood, shot in neck.

Thomas Prato: Dead, screwdriver located in neck, nose broken, many bruises. Found next to Susanne Prato.

Susanne Prato: Dead, Shot in head, killed on contact. Found next to Thomas Prato.

In the apparent hit and run no suspect was found. Some belongings were found missing, and victims seemed surprised, Still no leads.

That was a portion of my little rampage in what I believe was a police report. Yes I did take some of their things. A mistake I regret. I thought it would shame them you know? But, after not being caught I became confused. Wasn't the legal system better than this? I was so amazed of not getting in trouble; I played with the stolen belongings. Flaunted those items in the faces of everyone I despised, but they never knew.

**New chapter hopefully soon and back to Faberry point of view! **


	4. Chapter 3

**Dreams**

**Dreams away fear**

**Dreams toward light**

**Dreams love a near**

**Dreams lift the sight**

**Dreams a bliss**

**Dreams the story**

**Dreams go amiss**

**Dreams turn to gory**

**Dreams go dark**

**Dreams fade**

**Dreams end**

**Dreams By: haleyblu**

A girl awakened, but her eyes remained screwed shut, she was exhausted. But it was something else in the depths of her thought process that kept her eyes closed. And alas, before she had any real chance to completely collect herself, the exact memories she desperately needed to forget paraded into her brain. Her consciousness became aroused, but eyes were kept frozen to eyelids. She had flashes of blood, of rope, and screaming. She thought of fierce love that made her feel protective for some reason. It streamed through her system like electricity. She quivered and shook but she still refused to believe that the events actually occurred. She made herself think it was fiction; she tried to make herself forget. None the less, her senses didn't apparently forget. Soon, feeling (however traumatizing) began to return as well.

She was on a mattress but it was far too rough to be hers. She was cold, so she reached for a blanket. She couldn't move. Panic trilled, but denial powered through. Her awareness still expanded, she felt sticky, she felt watched, and soon the pain waiting to erupt exploded. Forcing through her like an agonizingly dull hand saw into her flesh, going deeper and forcing paths into bones. Every limb in her body ached more than that time Rachel drug her to their local Cross Fit. But the most awful, was her skull crackling with the sheer pain only comparable to lightning. She wanted so desperately to convulse to give into the pain but she was confined.

After seemingly hours, the girl simply rocked her head back and forth whispering in daze and shock. "It's just a dream, just a dream "she was whimpering, her locked eyes were soon leaking barely controlled tears. Her stomach struggling to stop stirring, always struggling, she pulled and twitched but still remained trapped.

"Oh God please no." she pleaded, her hope diminishing.

"It's a dream." She voiced.

It's a dream; it's just a fucking dream! Stooping to hysterics she began screaming to anything that would listen. Her muscles strained through tight rope and bloodied flesh.

It's a dream! Twisting, still straining she writhed in panicked non-stop sobs. She kicked and writhed but it was no good. Abruptly her stomach crumpled in and its contents spilled. A gory taste and smell wafted through her senses. Her fiercely tested brain function was lost, and she struggled for who knows how long. She repeated her denial over and over until an awaiting blackness finally arrived.

Rachel was no better off. She was in a fairly bad state to begin with but this was far more terrible. She had managed to be conscious for a fairly astounding amount of time, and had taken in her surroundings. She was no longer in that damned chair but chained to the cold basement floor by her hands bent behind her back. She could stand, but her spine soon ached along with everything else.

She tried to sleep but this proved nearly impossible due to her eye blinding pain. So she lay still on her side, slowly bleeding and racking with sobs, thinking of the look on Quinn's face as she fought, pleading, as she was drug off to who knows where.

When Rachel finally felt drowsy and tired the man walked in. He looked at her and simply sneered as she shot up, and took the biggest defensive pose she could muster. He came closer, quickly losing her wits she recoiled as far into the corner as possible. Shaking his head he began his work which confused her.

As Rachel watched him, he set up cameras, monitors, and computers hooking them up, to the old TV. Soon Rachel found he was ignoring her.

"Why are you doing this? She quavered shaking with sheer terror. There was no answer; so she spoke again, managing to sound more accusing.

"Why are you doing this?" She repeated

"Well it's certainly nothing personal." He finally answered.

"Well you're _certainly_ one fucked up bastard" she implied, putting emphasis on the, certainly.

He just chuckled not caring about her sarcasm at all. Oh he knew she would keep talking and give him many reasons to do something, but he didn't want to hurt until the presented time came.

Now the girl felt useless, childlike, if you will.

"What did you do with Quinn?" she asked dreading the answer but needing to know.

More chuckling, "You'll see."

This smacked Rachel, she had seen horror movies… well sort of, through Quinn's sturdy shoulder of course. Anyway she knew he was just trying to scare her but the uncertainty and worry slowed her thinking. Worrying about Quinn in silence the thought of their daughter slapped her.

"Oh no." she thought. "No please no please please no."

"Where is Margaret!" She forced through her teeth, rage igniting her.

His eyes turned to humored slits but he didn't answer.

"Answer me!" She demanded tears streaming over her cheeks.

"hmm, No thanks I'm good." He said pretending to ponder the question.

"TELL ME!" she ordered, Still hunched over but slowly and unknowingly getting closer to him.

"no." he said simply.

Rachel still approaching found that she could almost touch him.

"TELL ME NOW." She told him slowly.

"_Tell me now" Mrs. Dilbeck the fourth grade teacher stated calmly. "Did you push Alyssa off the tree house on purpose?"_

"_No I swear I would never do that!" _

"_This is not the first time you've had problems you know. So tell me, what happened?"_

"_I don't know she just fell." he cried_

"_You're fibbing mister, and unfortunately we will need to call your parent"_

"_NO PLEASE! I'LL TELL YO JUST PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE!" he said quaking with fear at his parents mentions._

"_I'm afraid we already have, I'm sorry"_

"_NO WAIT…. PLEASE!"_

Rachel's captor was seemingly frozen, with eyes glazed over, and his mouth slightly open. Rachel just crouched, incredibly confused.

Suddenly he was back, and he slapped Rachel so hard she collided with the wall. Again she did nothing, just sat in shock. Before any more movement was possible the man was back, he was clutching the girls jaw. Lifting her into the air where she couldn't breathe and staring at her with deranged eyes.

"Don't say that." He said plainly, his voice reeking of insanityHe was gone again, but he was talking, muttering seemingly to himself.

"_Daddy no please stop!" he cried aloud_

"_She fell I swear!"_

"Stop! It hurts so bad!" he was sobbing now. Even whimpering, to where Rachel who still couldn't even breathe pitied him. But he was soon back again, and Rachel was dropped. She soon landed painfully on her hip, twisting her wrists backwards. She crumpled gasping in absent air she needed so desperately.

The usually collected man appeared confused but was soon together. He stepped back to the struggling women and cursed. "Quinn didn't get to see that" He muttered as he walked up to Rachel and firmly grabbed her wrists. Still mumbling he let himself enjoy stuffing the much needed gag into her mouth.

Aw yes the gag, the best part of this is the reaction in people's eyes. And Rachel was no disappointment her eyes flashed with that fear he relished, and her chin lifted up meaning total control she was his.

The next best part is when they realize it's harder to breathe. They all start heaving and sometimes the mouth breathers even have a panic attack. But the flashback still bothered him and he needed a better distraction. Again he dropped Rachel but he then quickly finished up his work and left. But as he looked back at the barely breathing girl he whispered just to scare her

"You'll see them soon "

**Finally the part you've been anticipating! Tell me if you like the poem, remember I'm actually not a murderer, and please share your opinions! Thankyou :D (P.S:I also made this chapter bigger)**


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